


Sweet Domesticity

by Elizaveta_Chyornyj



Series: and hello to the end [2]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: (Late season 5), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beth Lives, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 05, You can also just read it as friendship!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26022475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizaveta_Chyornyj/pseuds/Elizaveta_Chyornyj
Summary: "It's just strange that we can afford to worry about the quality of the lemonade, at this point. I'm just glad to have some sense of normalcy again. This house, this food, that swing in the front room. I hadn't adjusted well to the apocalypse. If we're ever forced to evacuate out on the road again, or if something happens here, I'm not sure I'm going to make it."
Relationships: Beth Greene & Eugene Porter
Series: and hello to the end [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909099
Kudos: 4





	Sweet Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> I REALLY HATE posting in big fandoms...but I really like this work :/

"Just the man I was lookin' to see," She says. And then, as though she'd just noticed - You're not busy, are you?" He's been looking at the solar arrays for two hours now. She's pretty sure he isn't, since the pacing had only slowed once everyone going on a run today had left. Not that she'd been snooping, watching out the front window of the Grimes's house for that long, waiting and biding her time until he couldn't possibly be actually working anymore. 

Eugene looks up as she approaches, looking just past her shoulder, and eyes flickering back to the machinery off to his side every second or so. 

She wants to be his friend...he seems like he needs one, things are still beyond tense with him and Abraham and Rosita...no one's said so, but they haven't had to. It's just noticeable. And Beth needs someone too, to be honest. Someone that isn't Judy.

So...She'd taken the attempt at a green bean casserole out of the oven, took a pair of wire cutters to her pet project, and gathered Judith onto her hip, and walked a casual pace down the street. 

He shakes his head. "No. I'm not busy. I had been asked to look at the solar array, but in all honesty that task has been complete for some time now."

Stalling, then. Like she'd thought.

Beth smiles. Not the sort of demiture one she uses when she wants something - that wouldn't work on him anyways, she suspects -just smiles, and shifts Judy a little higher. "Would you come take a look at somethin' for me, then? I thought - well I started fixing somethin', but I've never really fixed much that wasn't a tractor." 

And that was a long time ago...which she is not to mention, because then she'll set to rambling, and the less details she gives the better.

It's just to keep him busy long enough so she can convince him to stay for long, really. Just.long enough to get him into the house, sitting down, maybe.

"I'm -" (this is probably the most they've ever talked, which dawns on her just then) "I find engineering to be both a mentally and physically stimulating task, but if you're asking about building something larger than your standard household kitchen table, I am most certainly not your man."

"It's not really much bigger than Judy, don't worry. I can't exactly lug around prices of sheet metal and wood like Abraham's been doing, either. It's something for Judith, actually. A swing. I think it swing before. It had a battery in it, at least, and I replaced it, but that's about all I can think of doin'.

"I can't promise that the outcome will necessarily be satisfactory. Even here, my resources are somewhat limited, but I'll see if I can't come up with something."

"Thanks." She smiles again, and actually, he smiles back, a little. It's cute. He's cute, honestly with his nervous figiting and each carefully-worded sentence to be as clear and as informational as possible.

What is not cute is the undertone of self-deprication in very word.

That is not going to stay, if she can help it. He is a member of their team, and a member of their family, _her family._ but this is just a start. She's gotta just get through step one. "It's in the house. I can't pay you, but I did make lunch. Nothin' fancy, but better than we've had in a long while, anyway." 

"That's more than enough payment. The way I see the situation, you're saving me from performing more menial tasks in the sunshine out here."

"It's not all that much better in the house." It's not. For everything Alexandria does have, they're lacking air conditioner. How long has it been since she had felt air conditioning? 

Maybe it's best not to think about that.

"It seems to me like you're downplaying the situation." He frowns at her, and then at the ground, and then just past her shoulder again.

"I just don't want you to be disappointed, is all." 

"Miss Greene -"

"Beth," she says. "Just Beth."

There's a long silence. He looks unsure, she thinks about shifting to have a hand free so she can pat him on the arm or something. Hehe just keeps smiling. "Beth, then. After the time we spent in the road, and the time walking after that, I'm not certain I could be disappointed in anything that you, or this whole fair city has to offer. It's marginally better than a barn, or the forest, or the trunk of a car."

"I guess I can't argue with that. But we really oughta start raising our standards." 

(Or maybe not, so they don't get disappointed in the end.)

They walk side by side back down the street, and Beth points. "It's that house, kinda in the middle there." They'd all stayed there, a few nights ago, but all these houses looked the same, and her honest-to-god worst fear was walking into the wrong one, some day. Maybe he worried about that, too.

"Do you reside there was well?" He sounds embarrassed to to ask, and for a minute she doesn't get why, but as soon as she does she feels blood rushing up to her face and neck. 

"Oh...No! I'm just next door, though. With Maggie and Glenn. You're on the other side of the street, right?" He's not the first to draw that conclusion, though. Not the first in Alexandria, even. Rock's nice, but that'd be like seeing her dad like that - unimaginably gross. She does kind of like to think of herself as Judith's mom, though. Or about as close as she's got, anyways.

"That is correct. Two houses down from the corner. With Rosita and Abraham." He points at it, counting the two next to it under his breath. As expected, it looks the same as the Grimes's, and hers.

"You done anything with it, yet?" She's asks. "I know Michonne hung up her sword, and what little Judith has is set up, and I _want_ to, but I don't have anything left to hang up."

"I haven't even unpacked," He admits quietly. 

"Me neither. And it's not that I don't feel good about this place, cause I do, it's just..."

"Home is somethin' of a fickle concept these days."

Beth's smile wobbles a little, but she nods. "You can say that again."

"My educated guess is that we are not the only ones taking such a stance, either."

"I'd bet not." They end up at the porch of the house. "I never got an answer, before. You want lunch?"

"If you've got enough. That sounds...excellent."

"I probably shoulda halved the recipie," she admits, which is plenty true. There is going to be more than enough for them, after months of no food at all. "I'm just - I guess last time I made this I was makin' it for five people, not two and a one year old."

The implications are clear - it isn't like she meant to bring up people she'd lost...just, there are enough of them now that it's unavoidable. Still, they're quiet until she opens the door to the house, and turns around to hold out Judith.

"Would you hold her for a minute? I gotta unfold her highchair."

It's not a ploy, but actually she wishes she'd thought of it sooner. It's cute. They baby's in his arms before he manages to protest, and his eyes go wide with panic. "See? She likes you. She mostly likes everyone, though so don't get too excited. It'll just be for a second."

He holds her close to his chest, rhythmically bouncing to stop her minor fussing and making grabby hands for Beth. She settles quickly, and she takes much, much longer than strictly necessary to set up the high chair before turning back around and flashing them both a winning grin.

"There. I'll take her back now. You go ahead and sit down."

He runs at the back of his neck. "Actually, if I might, I'd like to take a look at the swing first, if that seems amenable to you." 

That's fine. He already hardened to lunch, right? She points to the corner of the living room with the little baby swing "Sure, it's sitting right there. If you end up needing anything that isn't already over there, I'm sure I can find one somewhere."

She busies herself by perching in a chair next to the highchair, mashing up green beans and helping to blow on them, before watching as they end up in Judy's mouth just as often as they end up on the tray, or on the floor. 

"Beth?"

Eugene appears in the entryway to the kicthen. If she listens closely, she can hear a whirring aound, like a bit of tired machinery going. Her hack job with the wire cuttera wasn't enough to stop him, apparently. Not for very long. "Hmm?"

He frowns, and looks at her for a moment, like she's the piece of machinery that he's trying to work out now that the swing with the plush stars hanging above it is fixed. "Why did you ask me to do this? There are any number of people who could have completed the task, albeit with less efficiency. Not to mention the fact that it must be been either intentionally sabotaged, or someone had made an incredibly poor attempt at deconstructing the swinging mechanism."

That's a lot to unpack. 

"I - Well, first of all, _nobody_ else coulda fixed it. They would've just been messing with it all day, and then I'd have to go find another one. As for...Intentionally sabatoged, that wasn't me. Maybe one of them were chewing on it."

There's a beat of silence. She just smiles, and his frown turns to something more neutral, which is a start, at least.

"That was a joke."

"Yeah. I'm - well, I saw you sitting out there, pretending to look at the solar panels as everyone went on a run, and I just...I don't know. It seems like there was somethin' going on with you and Abraham and Rosita, the whole time I've known you, and I thought maybe a distraction and some company would do you some good. And maybe I didn't want to spend the afternoon alone, either. You can be mad, if you want. You can leave."we'd

Another beat of silence. She's pretty sure she's seeing a tiny, nearly imperceptible smile. "On the contrary. I - I appreciate it greatly. You thinkin' of me...I'm far from good company, though."

Again, the self-demeaning.

"I think we'll be the judge of that. I like having you here. Judy does, too."

"You said she likes everybody.

"She does. Doesn't make it not true, though. You still want lunch?"that

He nods.

"You go ahead and sit, then. I've got lemonade, too. The mix seemed stale, but it doesn't taste stale. Maybe I don't remember what lemonade is supposed to taste like, though."

And it's warm - she doesn't mention that, mostly because she doesn't think of it. Food is either warm, or room temperature, right? That's how it's been for a while, now. With limited power, she figures any refrigeration is probably used for medicine or something.

"It's strange to me -" he says as she dishes him up a plate.

"What's that?"

"A few days ago we weren't eating. A week before that we were on the last cans of peaches and small animals that Mister Dixon caught. A month before that I was eating field rations and whatever we ran into in looted-through convenience stores."

"You think it's a waste? Worrying about it?" She starts on her own plate, and takes one in each hand before setting one down in front of him.

"It's just strange that we can afford to worry about the quality of the lemonade, at this point. I'm just glad to have some sense of normalcy again. This house, this food, that swing in the front room. I hadn't adjusted well to the apocalypse. If we're ever forced to evacuate out on the road again, or if something happens here, I'm not sure I'm going to make it."

That first part, she can't argue with. It's weird. Beyond weird. Like they could expect everything to go back to hor it was before - or at least pretend it could. As for the second part -

"You are. Gonna make it I mean. Not that I want to leave again, but if we've gotta, then you will."

"You can't promise that. Statistically speaking, taking into account former circumstances and incidents -" 

"I can't promise _anything_ , not anymore," Beth says. "But _I_ made it didn't I? I made it, and that means that you can, too. You're a smart man, Eugene. A genius, even. And people will protect you."

"They shouldn't have to. After all they've done to save their own skins, asking them to save mine is beyond selfish. It's unfair."

"The word isn't fair. It's never been fair. So what if it's selfish? It isn't like you don't bring anything to the table. Not everyone's cut out for combat. I'm not, most of the time, and people have had to jump in for me more than once, in case you already forgot...But it doesn't matter. We're family. That's family does for each other."

And their family! This group, they're all the family she's got left, and she'll be dammed if he can get away with thinking that they'll leave him behind or let him die because he thinks he doesn't have anything to offer. She tells him all that, too. He's quiet for a minute or so, all thoughtful. "I - thank you," Eugene says solemnly. "I think I may have needed to hear that just now."

Beth grins again, that two-time Peach Queen smile. "Just warnin' you now, I'm never this insightful. Something about cooking again, on two stove, in a real kitchen? I think it's getting to me. Normalcy, like you said before. I got a baby, and a kitchen, and a friend. I haven't felt this good since... " 

When it was just her and Daryl, those last couple nights. The prison. Maybe before all of this. The prison was her home, and a good community, but she was so world-weary and ready for everyone to die it was like she's been living in a miasma of nihilism.

"It's been a long time," she says quietly. "That's all. Thanks for joinin' me for lunch, Eugene."

"Thank you for inviting me the way you did - I suspect I would not have found reason to accept otherwise."

"Then maybe I ought break stuff more often." He squints at her. "Not really," she says. "Unless it'll help."

She gets a real smile this time, not a teeny one. It's lopsided and genuine and real, real sweet. "That's wholly unnecessary. I'll be happy to join you and the young Miss Grimes as often as you'd have my company - assuming, of course that I am not _actually_ busy."

"Glad to hear that," Beth says. "Since we're friends now, would you mind watchin' Judy again while I do dishes?"


End file.
